To make the world’s most distinctive golf bags, we went to the people who know how to make golf bags.

There are some things you can only learn by going there.

We travelled to China during Chunyun, the extraordinary annual migration that sees hundreds of millions of people travelling home for Chinese New Year.

Dongguan was busy. Very busy.

Our hosts welcomed us with a feast of delicacies that required a certain degree of courage — and considerable enthusiasm from our hosts — before I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the scissors and got to work.

Tartan doesn’t cut itself.

I showed the production team how we wanted the cloth cut, matched and lined up. They showed us how they turn a designer’s ideas into beautifully constructed golf bags.

We toured the factory, shared dinner, sang rather more karaoke than was probably necessary, and took an illuminated boat trip down the Pearl River.

At one point we wandered into the back streets and, for a while, became gloriously lost.

It was exactly as you might imagine from the movies.

Except we made it back.

And somewhere between the factory floor, the feast, the karaoke and the neon-lit river, we began to understand something important.

Great products don’t belong to one place.

They are the result of people, skills, ideas and cultures coming together.

It’s a little like discovering that Pizza Hut puts the toppings under the pizza base.

You may not understand it immediately.

But then you realise there might be another way of doing things.

We came home with new ideas, new friendships, a deeper appreciation of the extraordinary skill behind our bags — and considerable fondness for the people who make them.

With much fondness.